Yesterday
by Brindabella
Summary: No matter how much Jonesy tries, he can't forget yesterday.


Date began: July 5, 2006

Date finished: July 9, 2006

Dedication: For Bec

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to the writer. They remain property of Channel 7 and Southern Star.

Song Credits: Cold Chisel, Daryl Braithwaite, Pink, Snow Patrol, Oasis, Simple Plan

© Riss 2006

**Yesterday**

Kids out driving Saturday afternoon pass me by

I'm just savouring familiar sights  
We share some history, this town and I  
And I can't stop that long forgotten feeling of her  
Try to book a room to stay tonight

I can't believe how long it's been since I've been back here. Time has flown and I have practically nothing to show for it except a great job that I've grown to hate. That's why I'm back. No matter how much I hate this job, it's in my blood. And it's not everyday that a colleague gets a service medal. So I've come back. Just for a few days. Hoping I'll run into some old mates, and hoping I won't run into some others.

This place hasn't changed a bit. The main street is exactly the same, and so are the store fronts. Newer model cars are parked outside those store fronts, but that's only because it's been ten years since I've been back here. I've already passed the Welcome to Mt Thomas sign – it's looking weathered and old now – as old as Tom Croydon himself most probably. But I still got that settled feeling in the pit of my stomach as I drove past it. Something about this town always makes me feel at home. Perhaps I should never have left.

I can smell the pies baking in Sam's Patisserie – he must still leave the back door open when he cooks. The aroma wafts through my open car window and up into my nostrils, making my senses a little bit less alert. I shake my head vigorously, trying to keep my mind on the road. But it's not long before my eyes drift as I pass the Imperial. God, is that still standing? I can still see the faded curtains that hang in the windows of the upstairs rooms. I used to live in one of those rooms. Seems like a lifetime ago now. I sigh and drive on.

Before long I'm passing the station. But I can't go in. What if she's there? I couldn't face her. Not after all this time. Silly really, she's probably moved on as well, what am I worried about? I doubt she even works in this station still. But you can never be certain of these things. As much as I want to walk in and ring the reception bell, just like old times, I drive slowly past, just taking in the patrol cars and the entrance with its familiar illuminated sign.

"_You're leaving?" she gasps in shock and stares wide eyed at me. I detect a hint of sadness in her voice and it almost makes me want to stay. Almost._

"_Yeah," I reply. "It's time for me to move on Amy. You know me, itchy feet, born roamer of the earth," I try to make it sound like the right decision, but truth is, I'm having a hard time convincing even myself._

"_But where?" she is still wide eyed and astonished. She sits herself down in her swivel chair behind her desk and puts her head in her hands for a brief moment before looking back up at me._

"_They've offered me a job in Homicide," I answer quietly. It still seems so unbelievable. Homicide? Who would've thought Evan Jones could get into Homicide? _

"_Homicide?" she gasps again. Guess I'm not the only one surprised at my acceptance._

"_Yeah," I'm starting to feel bad now, and it's making me realise what I'm leaving behind. We're a good team, me and Amy, maybe that's why she's not taking this very well. I try to make it sound worth my while. "They're closing us down anyway," I state simply, trying to take the guilt off my shoulders._

"_I guess," she replies, looking the saddest I've ever seen Amy Fox._

The first few weeks in Homicide were great. It seemed like I was made for the job. Even if I was just the busboy, tagging along on jobs where I wasn't allowed to speak or offer an opinion. I still loved it. It was what I joined the police force for – to get into the nitty gritty and wear a suit. Well maybe not the suit part – there were days when I really missed getting my hands dirty in my old blue uniform – but I was in my element in Homicide. I drunk up my superiors knowledge like it was the cup of life.

A few months in I got a taste of what it was really like there though. While it took me a few years to find my feet and actually be trusted, it was after just a few months that I was no longer shielded from what Homicide really was – a menagerie of crooked cops, luke warm coffee, underworld gangs and insane working hours. It wasn't exactly what I'd pictured it. I think that is what made me start to hate the job. At first I was willing to stand up against it all. I was never one to bow to pressure – I wasn't going to let corruption go unnoticed. But after a few years it all seemed too hard. I didn't ever condemn what it was like in Homicide, I just no longer batted an eyelid at it. I thought that if I stayed on the straight and narrow I'd be fine. But I think that's what made me hate my job. No longer did I have the passion or the energy to stand up for what I believed in. Nowadays I just let it pass me by and hope that no one points any fingers at me. It's a shame it's turned out that way. But at least I don't have any family around to see me like this anymore. Dad died a few years back – two heart attacks in six months.

Now it's just me. No Dylan, no Dad, and definitely no Mum. I'd gotten used to not having her around. She's been gone for a while now. But Dylan – well, what can I say? I wish he'd never died. And then Dad. My last hero, gone. It was a pretty lonely life there for a while. I started doing what my colleagues were doing at the same age – picking up women we'd never spend more than one night with. I know now I was wallowing in my grief far too much to even realise that I was doing such a pathetic, dreadful thing. I can't remember any of those girls names. How terrible is that? I'm not proud of what I did.

Maybe it was my way of forgetting Suse. She was hard to forget, after everything we'd been through together. Sometimes, I sit down and I think about us, and realise what we had was practically nothing. But then other times it feels like so much. I hate myself for never making the effort – never making it work. Maybe we could've been something. Maybe we could have worked. I guess we will never know. It's been six years; she'll be married with a couple of kids by now. And she could be living anywhere. We lost contact the moment I left for Homicide. I remember the day I told her.

"_Alex told me you're leaving," she's standing at the door to the mess room where I am drinking my coffee. I look up, not wanting to meet her eyes. But I have to. I nod and say nothing. Nothing seems right._

_She surprises me, and comes to sit down at the table opposite me. She seems uneasy, fiddling with her watch and avoiding my eyes. We sit for maybe five minutes before she speaks. "Homicide?" she asks quietly._

"_Yeah, Homicide," I answer. She's read my mind. Maybe Susie knows me better than I thought._

"_I'll miss you," she whispers, staring at her hands._

"_I'll miss you too," I breathe, disbelieving we are having this conversation._

Later that night we had a screaming row. In the heat of the moment, our feelings were suddenly exposed like they had never been before. It was such a contrast from the calm, almost reminiscent conversation we'd shared that afternoon in the mess room. It was me that started the argument that night, unaware it would turn into a screaming match. It was lucky no one was in the station at the time. She wanted to know why I'd picked Homicide. I replied that I felt like it would be a good career move for me, and more opportunities, more than this town could ever give me. That was the clincher I think. I was called a snob, a bastard, amongst other things. We yelled at each other for an hour, ruining anything we'd ever shared. The next day I left, and she wasn't there when I farewelled everyone.

We bumped into each other briefly a couple of years later. It was the first time since that screaming match. I was still in Melbourne, attending the funeral of a fallen comrade. It was a bloke I'd worked with when I first began at Homicide. I was so sure Susie wouldn't know him, but then when I got to the church there she was, and I wasn't surprised. Everyone knows everyone in the police force. She was standing at the door of the church, talking with another cop. I stood at the base of the stairs leading up to the door, my hands in my pockets, trying to face yet another funeral of a colleague. It seemed like every year that went by, we lost someone else.

She didn't see me at first, but I saw her. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her. She stood exactly the same way I'd always known her to. Her hair was longer and her frame slightly thinner. But she was the same ol' Suse. She was in her dress uniform – of course, this was a police funeral after all – and spoke earnestly to the constable next to her. I didn't want to speak to her – I knew I wouldn't have anything to say – so I took a deep breath, and walked up the stairs. As I approached the door and went to step inside, she looked up. We stared at each other for the briefest of seconds, and then I stepped inside, without a second glance at her.

That was the last time I saw her. Since then, I've caught up with all the old crew – PJ, Alex, Kel and Amy. Amy stayed in Mt Thomas when they kept the station open. I was glad she did. She was in the right place there. Amy might've been a great detective worthy of a city posting, but she was at her best in Mt Thomas, even though she didn't like to admit it.

Most of them are still there actually. Hard to believe after 6 years they're all still there. Even the Boss – although Alex has told me he suspects he'll announce his retirement after he accepts the medal. Truthfully…I didn't think he would last even this long. Makes me wish I'd stayed in Mt Thomas sometimes, just so I could've worked with him those final few years. It would've been an honour. But I didn't.

I skew the car back around, doing a big u-turn to head back to the Imperial. No other place feels right. Minutes later I am parked around the back and getting out. I take a deep breath, trying to make myself feel a little better. The memories are getting to me a bit. I shake my head and head inside. I push my way through the door by the parlour and look to the bar. Chris isn't there. My heart sinks. What if she's sold the place?

But then I look up towards the stairs when I hear footsteps. There she is, ever reliable Christine Riley. I smile.

"Jonesy!" she gasps for a quick second, but then envelopes me in a hug. Pulling away, she holds me at arms length and smiles into my eyes. "I was wondering when you'd come back," she grins mischievously.

I smile back, shaking my head. "I'm not back," I inform her.

"Just hear for Tom's presentation?" she asks sadly.

I nod. She nods back in reply, her demeanour suddenly a little deflated. Did everyone think I would come back one day? I think to myself. Have they been waiting for me to return?

"_You're coming back right?" Kelly asks as I gather all the folders on my desk and shove them into the cardboard box she got for me. She says it as though she doesn't want to hear the answer._

"_I don't know Kel," I reply, my attention not really focused on her. "Maybe."_

"_But you're going to Homicide right?" she asks. I nod and look at her finally. "You'll get tired of it pretty soon, I know you Jonesy. You'll find a way to come back here. Any excuse," she winks at me, and flits away, not wanting to hear anymore of my no's and maybe's._

_One summer, I'll find a way_

_One summer, will always remain_

_One summer, remember the way_

I follow Chris to the bar where she places a beer in front of me. As she dries glasses, she leans on the bar and chats to me. She reminds me of the shocking job I used to do pulling beers for her behind the bar that time I helped her out. We laugh and drink back through old times. It wasn't really that long ago, but it feels like another lifetime.

Chris fills me in on what like is like around here nowadays. Seems like nothing's changed. I could slip right back into this community like that. I sigh quietly as I listen to her chatter on about Kelly and Joss and Matt and Alex. She tells me their new ranks now – they've all moved up the stakes. But I already know. I read the police gazette every month when it arrived in my mailbox, looking for the names of my old Mt Thomas friends, just to remind me of home. She tells me about Amy, how she's on the brink of major promotion. It doesn't surprise me.

Then she tells me about Tom. Life actually looked up for him after I left, and she informs me of this gleefully and with a sense of relief in her voice. He beat the cancer she says, and she seems so pleased. I have to agree with her – it was about time his luck turned around. I know all Tom Croydon ever wanted was his station in his little town, with no one bothering him and without the brass breathing down his neck every chance they got. If they'd just have given him that from the beginning maybe he'd be a different man. But Chris tells me he and Anna have reconciled, and Susan has a new baby.

"Is he still sitting comfortably in the senior sergeants position?" I ask her, sipping my beer.

"As comfortable as ever," she replies, giving a quiet chuckle, the look on her face telling me that she's as happy about it as he is. I remind myself how much the people of Mt Thomas happily live in a bit of a time warp. They're happy for things to be the same for the rest of time. That's why Tom Croydon is still just a senior sergeant – not going anywhere fast, but not bothered by that.

The one person she doesn't mention is the one person I can't stop thinking about. It's just this town – almost everything reminds me of her. I look Chris in the eye and we silently agree to end our reminiscing there. Never say her name Chrissy, please, I beg her with my eyes.

Number one is to find some friends to say "You're doing well  
After all this time you boys look just the same"  
Number two is the happy hour at one of two hotels  
Settle in to play "Do you remember so and so?"  
Number three is never say her name

"Can I get a room Chris?" I ask her suddenly, hopping up off my stool, my beer now swirling deep inside my belly.

She gives me a 'yeah' and a wink as she walks away and gets me a key. I shove my hands in my pockets as I wait for her, and take in the public bar for the first time in six years. Just like I thought, nothing's changed. The same pictures still hang on the walls, and the same telly blares out the local footy results in the corner. The duke box is still gathering dust but still lights up brightly from the inside as a patron punches in his song choice. The carpet is the same – just worn down a bit more. The curtains too – the same, just faded. Like they say in the movies – 'the ol' place hasn't changed a bit'. I smile to myself as I let my eyes roam and my mind wonder, beginning to feel weary from my long car ride.

_As I load my junk into the back of my truck, I hear footsteps behind me. I already know it's Kelly – I can just tell from the way she drags her feet across the gravel, the way she always does when she is feeling down._

"_You're really going?" she asks sadly, standing beside me._

_I nod in response, not knowing how else to get through to her that I'm leaving Mt Thomas for good._

"_But won't you miss us Evan? Miss this?" she gestures to the peaceful tranquility of our surroundings. I can tell she's trying to do all she can to convince me to stay. But my mind is made up. How can I stay after what happened last night? How can I stay after Susie and I said all those things to each other?_

"_I'll be able to take my memories Kel," I smile a little at her, but know it's a pretty pathetic attempt to look happy. Nothing changes in this place, I say to myself as she walks away, back inside. I want to live a different life – fast paced and exciting. I can't have that here. And I can't have Susie here either. So what's the point in staying?_

_Oh the flame trees will blind the weary driver  
And there's nothing else could set fire to this town  
There's no change, there's no pace  
Everything within its place  
Just makes it harder to believe that she won't be around_

Chris returns, a key dangling from her fingertips. "Room 7," she throws the key at me and I catch it with one hand, the other hand picking up my bag from where it sits by the bar. I grin at her and shake my head as I walk away and up the stairs. Room 7 – my old room. Now this really does feel like a time warp! I trudge up the stairs and down the hall, making my way to room 7.

Unlocking the door, I throw my bag on the bed and then myself. Propping my feet up on the bag, I lay on the bed, my hands behind my head. When I came to Mt Thomas, I never intended to ever leave. I loved it here. Sometimes it was crap yes, but it was the best posting I'd ever had. I was ready to settle down. I'd gallivanted around the country long enough, as my father put it, and it was time to take a rest. It was time to lay down some roots. The first day I walked into this town, I had such high hopes. I wanted to be a great cop, get off my probation, meet a nice girl, settle down and live life much the way Tom Croydon did. I was ready for it.

But it wasn't ready for me, obviously. The job was great, give or take a few tough cases. But that part about meeting a girl and settling down…didn't happen as easily as I'd hoped. That's why I'm almost 37 and still not married. Shameful! Maybe it's a Jones family tradition – Dylan died with no one special in his life either. And Dad died without Mum.

I remember when I was 31, I thought I had it made. I proposed to her for goodness sake. It almost worked out too. Maybe I dived in too fast though, I don't know. Whatever I should've done, I know it all turned to shit that day I proposed. Some people would've said I needed to wait longer. But I've always lived for the moment. If it feels right, do it, that's always been my motto. So I did it. I didn't have a ring, or even a speech planned. I was just living for the moment.

"_You scare the crap out of me and I'll scare the crap out of you," I whisper to her, looking her dead in the eye. She laughs, disbelieving. I hoist myself up a bit more and lean in closer, hanging over the back of her seat. "Marry me," I whisper._

She was ecstatic on the way back to the station, and so was I. We could not stop grinning. When we got back, she pulled the car in and turned off the ignition. I stepped out of the passenger side and trotted quietly to her side of the car. She was bent over, struggling to get her possessions together. She juggled a folder, a pen, her hat and her jacket, as well as the keys and as she went to lose her footing on the gravel of the driveway, I caught her around the waist and propped her up against the car, my hands resting on her hips. She looked up at me, squinting in the sunlight, and smiled. It was the only excuse I needed to kiss my new fiancée. It was one of only a handful of passionate moments Suse and I have ever shared.

Hrumpphhhh, I sigh as I shuffle over to lay on my side, kicking the bag to the floor with my feet as I do so. Why do I torture myself like this? Who needs this kind of pressure in their lives?

But Ah! Who needs that sentimental bullshit, anyway  
Takes more than just a memory to make me cry

Suse and me, we really do have a bit of history. Even though neither of us likes to acknowledge it. Is that what's stopped us all these years? Who knows? I don't even know if she's still in town. It's been a long time, and it can't be said that coppers live sedimentary lives. Well, apart from Tom Croydon. So Suse is probably not here. Of course she would've moved on. She has a life too. So do I. We don't need each other anymore.

I kind of remember when that something first clicked inside me though. It was probably her first day here. I remember telling Ben that I didn't care that she was married. But that was just my cover. I didn't want to blurt out that really I thought she was amazing looking. For a few days there I forgot all about Tess. But it was the lack of anything Tess I had after she left that perhaps attracted me all the more to Susie.

You have to admit, she's beautiful. And smart. She has a good head for the job. I always noticed that in her. I think the Boss noticed it too, confirming what I'd always thought of Susie by giving her the acting sergeants position. The brass of course, made him take that away from her though, when she'd barely had the position five minutes. It was awful to see her reaction. She just shut down. A bit like me I guess.

_I could hear the locker being slammed, the coffee cup dropped from a great height into the sink, the boots kicking the cupboards in anger. She was pissed. I couldn't blame her. I got up and made my way to the mess room, fearful of what might meet my eyes._

_By the time I get there she's sitting slumped in a chair, her spine curved greatly against the chair's back and her eyes closed. The blonde hair of her fringe whisped in front of her eyes, almost hiding the lashes I'd fallen in love with her first week in Mt Thomas. "Suse?" I asked as I went to sit down opposite her. _

_She opens her eyes and looks at me sullenly, but doesn't say a word. Seeing the look in her eyes makes me clueless as to what to say as well. So we just sit there, brooding._

Pretty soon I can hear the evening rush starting down stairs. The sounds bring back a multitude of memories of the years I spent living in this place. Of all the beers I drank at Chris's bar. Of all the breakfasts I ate running out the door to work. All the times Alex and I got smashed in the parlour. And all the times I would wander downstairs hoping Susie would be in the public bar.

I better go downstairs now – Chris would've told everyone who walked through the door probably, that I'm back in town. I hurl myself up off the bed, run a weary hand through my hair and walk out the door and into the hallway. Suddenly my heart beats wildly in my chest – that scared and nervous feeling you get when you've waited to do something for so long and the moment finally arrives. I got it the first day I walked into the Homicide building in Melbourne. And now I'm getting it walking down the hallway of the place I used to call home.

I try to pump my confidence up as I walk the length of the hallway. I can handle this. I can. I'm a detective at Homicide now, come on! I can handle anything. I shove my hands into the pockets of my suit jacket, one of many that hang in my closet in my flat in Melbourne. They're like my uniform now. Smart suits, great shoes, but a bedraggled face. I was so taken aback by the faces of my new colleagues on my first day. They didn't have that same look I was so used to in my uniformed country comrades.

As I start down the stairs, I feel my mobile buzzing in my back pocket. I yank it out, annoyed, and flip it open to see who has sent me one too many messages. Oh work…I cannot escape it! I send my automated reply that I am out of the office for a couple of days, and hope that they get the drift that I want to be left alone. Ha! They're right when they say cops don't have liv-

"Evan," I look up suddenly when someone calls my name in surprise. I've reached the landing of the stairs and she's right in front of me.

"Susie," it comes out as a bit of a gasp, and I immediately want to take it back, even though it's probably a standard reaction to seeing someone you didn't expect to see.

I study her face in the milliseconds that sit between us before we speak again. She looks a little hurt at my gasping, and I realise that this suit and those shoes are just a façade – like I can ever be cool and collected around the woman I used to be so crazy about! My job description and the clothes I wear mean nothing when I'm back in this town, no matter how much everyone might talk it up.

She looks so different. It has been six years I guess. Taking myself by surprise, the first thing I look at is the fourth finger of her left hand. But it's bare. Somewhere inside I breathe a quick sigh of relief. But then just as quickly I chastise myself for being so hopeful – a bare ring finger could mean anything. Maybe she is married and just didn't wear it today. Maybe she's seeing someone and they're just still in the 'going out' stage. Maybe maybe maybe.

But she seems as taken aback as I am. We can't even share the customary hug of friends who haven't seen each other in years. It's just too awkward. Even more awkward than this stunned silence between us is. I have to say something. Anything. Because this silence is ridiculous. We're adults. Why can't we act like it? I look up and into her eyes – the first real time since the funeral. We stare at each other for just a few seconds before she gives me a sad smile that says something like 'too little too late' and walks away, back out the way she came in, just moments before.

Can she not forget what we used to be like either? I stare after her as she walks away from me, the memories of our heated argument the night before I left coming flooding back. She screamed her head off at me that night – I'd never seen her so mad. I decided at that moment that we were finished. For good. No matter how much you run away, distance and time cannot erase the past. But I moved to Melbourne anyway.

Sitting down on the bottom step, alone in the foyer, I put my head in my hands. Maybe coming back here wasn't the best idea after all. Why did I ever think she would have moved on? I haven't. Maybe she can't get away from the fact that we nearly went all the way.

"_Would you mind if I kissed you?"_ _I ask, shy as all hell. She's going to say no, she's going to say no, she's going to say no. She's nodding…oh my God._

"Jonesy!" it's Kelly. She is standing with her hands on her hips in front of me, grinning like a Cheshire cat and staring down at me. With a squeal she pulls me to my feet, and gives me a squeeze. "How long has it been?" she screeches, her husky voice still as excited as it always was. "I knew you'd be back," she winks and gives me a peck on the cheek, before grabbing me by the hand and dragging me into the public bar. Giving a smile despite what has just happened with me and Suse, I allow myself to be led.

It's surging with people, all here for Friday night drinks. But I spot the old crew in a flash. They still sit at the same part of the bar, and on the same tables. Just like yesterday. It's not long before Kelly and I are sitting down with them all, catching up and reminiscing. It feels just like old times. Except for one thing. It just walked out the door five minutes ago, as soon as she saw me.

As great as it is to see everyone, I'm not all quite here right now. I can't get all my regrets off my mind. My conscience drifts back to the day I proposed, replaying over and over in my head.

"_But we've only just started going out!" she whispers, obviously shocked. She stares at me dumbfounded, so taken aback by my question._

"_Who cares?" I grin._

_That last kiss_

_I'll cherish_

"So Jonesy!" this time it's Amy's slap on the back that wakes me up out of my reverie. I shake my head, trying to gather myself together and look at her, noticing suddenly that she is sitting right beside me. I could've sworn Kelly was just sitting in that chair. How long have I been daydreaming for? "What have you been doing with yourself?" she smiles, looking into my eyes, completely unaware that work is the furtherest thing from my mind right now.

When I don't answer straight away, she gives me a concerned look? "Jonesy?" she asks again. "How's Homicide treating you?"

Finally words come out of my mouth, like a robots. "Oh yeah, it's terrific," I lie, sounding more convincing than I thought I would.

"Yeah?" she asks, grinning. "You know I was just thinking about you the other day!" she's so bubbly, like me being back is a good thing. "I was speaking to a friend of mine at Homicide…Tamara Stevenson. She's on the fourth floor…do you know…"

I'm happy just to sit here round a table with old friends  
And see which one of us can tell the biggest lies

Later I excuse myself, promising everyone I'll see them at the medal ceremony tomorrow. Taking in one last gulp of the familiar, homely scent of the room, I walk back out towards the parlour, only to be confronted with Susie yet again. Has she been waiting for me the whole time? She definitely still lives in this town, I think to myself.

But I just don't know what to say. I don't think there's anything left to say, so I walk past her and back up the stairs to my room. Halfway up, I hear her behind me. But still, I don't stop. I'm done with screwing around. Either we're on or we're not, and so far, everything points to not.

"Jonesy!" she grabs my shoulder, sounding agitated. "You can't even look at me," she states, annoyed.

It makes me turn around. "Why should I look at you, when you won't even talk to me?" I bite back.

As swiftly as she grabbed my shoulder, look on her face changes. It turns into a sad, wistful look, one I have seen way too many times on Susie Raynor's face. "I'm sorry," it's all she can spit out.

"You didn't even come to say goodbye," I say sadly, taking us both back to the day I left for Melbourne, leaving her, and this town, behind.

She plops herself down on the stairs again, looking pitiful. I notice for the first time how time has aged her a little, as it does all of us. I suppose I don't look like the same guy I did when I left. Nevertheless, I find myself sitting down beside her, holding my breath at being so close to her again, after all this time.

"I heard about your Dad," she whispers to me. "I'm sorry."

I shrug my shoulders, knowing it was bound to happen some time. I've gotten used to life without anyone around nowadays. I think I've turned into PJ Hasham. No one in my life – no one worthy anyway – so work has become my life instead. I think that's another thing that made me lose my passion for the job. When you live and breathe your work it's a hard habit to get out of. And I should know. Six years in Homicide was probably six too many.

"Have you stayed here all this time?" I ask her, feeling shy again.

She nods in response. "We all have. You were the only one who left."

It surprises me. I just assumed that when I saw everyone in the bar before, they had just returned to Mt Thomas for the medal ceremony as well. I didn't think they still all lived here. Did I detach myself from my Mt Thomas family too quickly, thinking my brothers and sisters would all do the same?

I look at her features closely. She's spoken with a hushed tone, as though she doesn't want to admit how long she's had this posting. Maybe she's outgrown this town. Maybe we all have. She looks up at me, her eyes all of a sudden brimming with tears. "I didn't come and say goodbye because I knew I would've tried to make you stay," she draws in a breath sharply, preparing to blurt out everything she's been holding in for six years. "I'm so sorry for what I yelled at you that night," she looks so genuinely ashamed that I almost put an arm around her.

It still feels awkward between us though, and she confirms how awkward it is by shuffling a little bit away from me, bringing her knees up to her chest, resting her elbows on top of them and hiding her face in the sleeves of her jacket. "I've missed you," she sobs quietly.

My heart goes out to her, but something still holds me back. She was all I ever wanted, but it was ruined. It's not so easy to erase the past. Especially when you can't stop thinking about all the things we ever fought about and all the horrible things we ever said to each other. Maybe we're just not meant to be.

Susie looks up again, wiping the tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. "You didn't miss me did you?" she asks with a lifeless monotone.

I wish I could touch you again

I wish I could still call you friend

I'd give anything

I don't know if I still love her anymore. Did years of messed up dates and almost kisses crush me too much? Did I want to stop mucking around, stop being so on and off with this woman, that I went all the way to Melbourne to prove it to her?

"Have we outgrown each other Jonesy?" she whispers, sounding afraid.

"I dunno Suse," I answer honestly. Did I just need to come back here to prove to myself that I was over her? Have we outgrown each other?

We get to our feet, still a bit of distance between us. As our eyes meet again, Susie face contorts with sadness as a fresh lot of tears spill over her cheeks. She walks back down the stairs, her head hanging low. When she reaches the bottom step she turns around. I am still standing where I was before, just watching her walk away from me. "Jonesy…" she calls out. "You're all that I have."

Just give me a chance to hold on

The next day I stand next to Amy in the sunshine in my dress uniform, watching as Tom accepts his medal. A lifetime of service – wonder if I'll stay in the job long enough to get a medal like that? Sometimes I wonder.

As the ceremony finishes up, we all stand up straighter, assembling to salute the newly recognised hero. I see Susie just a few bodies down our guard of honour. She still has that sad look on her face – even sadder than the night before, if that's possible. I continue to stare at her as she gazes straight ahead, her hand at her temple in the salute we are all doing, but no meaning in her stance. Something about the way she stands today makes me want to go and speak to her. Maybe last night I was too brutal.

After the formalities are over, I go to approach her, but before I get the chance to Amy grabs my elbow. "You're not going to talk to Susie are you?" Man, she can still read my mind.

I give her a quizzical look and nod. "Ahhh yes?" I answer, confused. What did Amy Fox ever have to do with my Susie?

"I wouldn't," she advises me. "Just quietly…I reckon this whole thing is making her rethink her own career. You pushing things might not help."

I am speechless. Susie Raynor was born to be a cop. Sure, I might've seen a little bit less of that spark in her eyes than what I was used to last night, but I'm sure it was still there…somewhere. I shake my head at Amy, stubbornly ignoring her warning. I know Susie better than that.

I wander over to her, Amy remaining where I left her, her arms folded across her chest and a frown creasing her forehead. Susie is facing away from me. As I get closer I see she is pulling at a thread on her sleeve, a frown creasing her forehead as well, and bags hanging under her pretty eyes. "Suse?" she looks up and over at me, and suddenly I see that Amy was right. It's gone. I can't believe it.

Word is on the street that the fire in your heart is out

"What?" she asks me sadly, that monotone still there, making my heart ache slightly. She looks like she wants to run away, but I know she doesn't have the energy for that. She looks at me forlornly, a look that breaks my heart. What happened to the Susie I used to know? What happened to the girl who attacked every case she worked on and never gave up without a fight? It was what made us such a good team. Her drive and my drive put together always equalled gold. I didn't even think she might not be all right without me.

"Are you ok?" With my heart in my throat I reach out to touch her elbow.

Her face contorts just like it did last night, but she regains control of it quickly, visibly taking in three deep breaths to steady herself in front of so many people. "If you knew me well enough, you wouldn't need to ask," she breathes, and walks away.

You might think I'm happy

But I'm not gonna be ok

I stand there, shell shocked. What's happened to my Suse? What have I done? I just assumed that moving to Melbourne was the best thing for me…for everybody. Guess I didn't think that one through too well. Amy walks up behind me and elbows me in the back. "Told you," she says as we both watch Susie walk away. How could I have let this happen?

That afternoon I walk back to the hotel, unable to get my encounter with Susie off my mind. What have I done to her? It's all my fault. I should've made it work. I push open the back door to the hotel and walk inside, giving Chris a wink at the bar as I walk by to go back up to my room. She replies with a troubled look and it makes me stop. I turn on my heel and walk into the public bar, my eyes on Chris, concerned over what she is so concerned about. But as I enter I finally catch on. There, hidden in a corner, is Suse. She looks tiny and small, all too much like the day she cried over Jo's death.

_"This is unacceptable!" she cries. "Jo is dead! This is not a time for us to be at each other's throats!" She kicks the chair somewhat defiantly and tears come to her eyes. "I miss her...I miss her," she truly loses it before me. She slumps down onto the edge of the table and brings her hand to her forehead, shielding her weeping eyes from what is around her. I've never seen her this way and I am so taken a back that it takes me a moment or two to react. But quickly I step forward and take her other hand, speaking soothingly to her all the while._

"_I know," I feel so guilty for having lost my head at Ben. Now was never the time to act all high and mighty._

I sit down opposite her, immediately understanding why she chose this corner of the pub to hide in. No one can really see us tucked around this corner – not that there's many people in the pub at 2 o'clock in the afternoon anyway. I lean forward on the table, trying to think of something worthwhile to say. After all this time, no matter how much I wonder if I still love her, I still must hold a candle for her somewhere. Why else would I have approached her at the medal ceremony? And now I just want to make her feel better and remind her of our good times, because it hurts to see her this way.

"Hey Suse?" I ask, trying to sound light hearted, as difficult as it is. She looks up at me through teary eyes, her face forlorn. "Remember when we got stuck in the barn?" I chuckle to myself, hoping it will make her chuckle also.

She closes her eyes for a second and can't help but smile. She lets out a hushed laugh, one that only I can hear, but I'm glad I can hear it. It's the old Susie I know so well. "You were so shy that day," she reminds me.

My cheeks flush pink and I stare at my hands, embarrassed. "Only because you were so up front," I protest with a smile. She smiles back at me, looking into my eyes at last, and I feel such a connection to her at this very moment. No matter what we've gone through, the good and the bad, we're always around each other. We seem to live our lives through each other.

"Why did you go away Jonesy?" she whispers, leaning forward on the table, her tears drying.

"I had to," I mumble. The truth spills out of my mouth, and I am powerless to stop it. "I couldn't have you, so I couldn't be here. It was too hard."

She gasps, and then presses her lips together, frowning hard at me. "So you just ran away?" she accuses me.

My guard immediately comes up, offended that she would think that I run from my problems. "I didn't run away..." I stammer, not sounding as head strong as I had planned. "…Well, maybe I did, but you drove me away as well. It was a bit of both Suse."

She nods, understanding at last. I can see her mind casting back to the night we screamed obscenities at each other.

"_You're a snob, you know that? Nothing is good enough for you! Not even this town!" she screams, her face red and her blood boiling. I stand in front of her, my blood boiling at the same temperature. She storms to the door of the office I share with Amy and when she reaches it she pauses for just a quick second. "Not even me!" she slams the door after her, so hard the blinds rattle against the glass._

_Angrier than I have ever been, I storm after her and to the door, wrenching it open, as mad as a cut snake. I watch her as she grabs her belongings off her desk and some papers flutter to the floor. She bends down to pick them up, crumpling them slightly as she tries to hold everything together that she's carrying. She blows a strand of hair out of her face and looks up at me, still red faced and inconsolable. "I can't believe I ever loved you," she spits out harshly. _

Susie sits back in her chair and folds her arms across her chest. I do the same, and we regard each other wearily for a moment. Is the fight still in us? Do the words we screamed at each other still stand? Am I still a snob? Is she still an uncaring bitch? I look into her eyes and think maybe those words don't still stand. I mentally slap myself for ever having called her such horrible things.

"I should never have called you uncaring Suse," I admit quietly, bringing our fight up again. She looks up and shrugs her shoulders at me, saying nothing for a few excruciatingly long seconds.

"Why not?" she asks numbly. "I was sometimes," she admits. I am stunned. Susie? Uncaring? How could she think that she was uncaring? _Because you told her she was Evan Jones. You screamed it in her face so hard that your throat felt raw._

"No you weren't Suse," I feel so guilty for having labelled her in such a way. "You were there for me when I needed it," I take one of her hands in mine in one swift movement. "When Dylan died you were the person who held me," I mumble quietly, not able to meet her eyes as memories of my brothers death come flooding back into my head. I'm embarrassed again to be reliving a moment of such weakness in my life. A moment when I should have been strong, like the cop that I am. But nothing felt right that night. No words, no sounds, no actions – I could do nothing but cry. And she held me while I did.

"Evan," she whispers, gripping my hand a little tighter. She can sense my shame, somehow. "You were entitled to fall to pieces that night. I held you while you cried," she shrugs her shoulders at me and shakes her head. "You would've done the same for me."

I nod miserably, remembering how much it helped that night. In true Jones style though, I try to forget about it as quickly as I remembered it. I change the subject as soon as I can, but somehow it still hovers around Dylan. "I remember when you didn't give up on me, when they thought I'd fed Dylan the ecstasy," I admit in an appreciative tone.

"I was young and naïve then," she chuckles quietly, pushing her fringe out of her eyes. "I thought I could do anything. I thought I could stand up to a Commander," she rolls her eyes at herself. "I thought I could change the world."

Do you remember, nothing stopped us on the field  
In our day

I chuckle quietly with her, remembering how I used to be like that too. We all were once. There was a time when you were full of energy and passion, living one day to the next, on the edge of your seat. You put on the uniform and you thought you were invincible. Nothing would stop us. We all thought we could change the world. Now, we live life dreading the next day instead of looking forward to it, and each case rolls into the next, seemingly more gruesome and tragic than any you've dealt with before. There comes a time when you don't rule your life – the force does.

"We're not like that anymore are we?" I ask her sadly.

"No," she replies sadly. "I don't think we are," and together we remember the silent promise we made to ourselves when we were young rookie cops – a promise all cops probably make to themselves at some stage. When you don't live for it anymore, what have you got left? When you don't have the same passion you did as a newbie, what can you possibly bring to the job? When you become cold and robotic and give automated responses to questions, what has your position become? When a body cold on a slab or thrown through a windscreen doesn't give you chills anymore or make you throw up, what life have you got left in you to contribute to the service of the community? When you long for yesterday, maybe today is the time to throw in the towel.

"I wish we could go back to the way we were Suse," I confide in her all of a sudden. "When we were young…" I search my brain for another word to describe how I used to feel, before Homicide. A million possibilities come into my head immediately. "…When we did want to save the world. When we loved life..."

Susie finishes my sentence for me. "…When we had each other." I nod sadly at her, knowing all along she could read my mind. I don't know what to say now though. Have I made the biggest mistake of my life leaving this place? What happens to a cop when they realise their time is up? Do they go to cop heaven? Do they spend their days reminiscing about their best busts, and the most famous crooks they captured…back in 'their day'? Do they live their lives through their memories because they have nothing else?

We stare at each other and think the same thing. We can't forget yesterday. Yesterday was a great era. Too great to forget. And although we spent most of it fighting and not getting along, it was still a great time. We still had each other then. My thoughts race through my brain, going from 'yes take the plunge' to 'no you've had enough screwing around with Susie Raynor' and back again. Back and forth. Back and forth. What to choose? Is our relationship worth fighting for? Should we make the effort to recreate yesterday and have another go? I find myself asking it out loud.

"Do you want to…" I stumble, afraid, on my words. "…give it another go?"

Susie smiles, tears welling in her eyes again. "You're too good to let go of again Jonesy," she says quietly. "I've lived in hell for six years without you working beside me," she gulps back a heart wrenching sob that makes me hold onto her hand again. She looks at me with questions marks in her eyes, asking me the same thing she has just divulged.

Have I been living in hell for these six years away from Mt Thomas too? Just because I've been away from Suse? Have I just never admitted it to myself? I moved to Melbourne thinking I was doing my career a favour. I reasoned that one cannot live his life away in one place until he dies. I've always had itchy feet. That's why I travelled so much before I joined the coppers. But then I came to Mt Thomas and it felt like time to settle down. And I did…for almost six years. For me, that was a long time. But in the heat of the moment, and after everything that had happened here, I forgot how settled and at home I used to feel here. I left for Melbourne thinking I just couldn't get that feeling back again, so a move was the only way to rectify that. I needed to make somewhere else home. But when I got to Melbourne and began at Homicide, I immersed myself so much in my job that I didn't allow myself to realise how much Melbourne didn't feel like home.

I smile at her and we stand up. "I'm due at work," she tells me, everything in her voice indicating she doesn't want to go. My heart flutters at hearing that tone and I walk with her to the door that leads out to the back alley – the way I came in. She shoves her hands in her pockets and walks slowly down the alley, away from me.

"Suse?" I call out to her, jogging the few metres between us. She turns around and looks intently at me. A ridiculous grin erupts onto my face and it says so much more than anything I could have spoken out loud. She returns the smile, her eyes lighting up and she throws her arms around me in a desperate hug. I wrap my arms around her, a little disbelieving that she is so close to me again after all this time, and I smell her delicious smell again for the first time in six years.

"All I ever wanted was you," she breathes sorrowfully into my ear as we remain in our embrace. Maybe sometimes, you _can_ go to back to yesterday…and make it count.


End file.
